The Christmas Village
by ladygris
Summary: Trapped in the middle of an alien blizzard was no way to spend Christmas. Evan Lorne's attitude changes, however, as he meets a young boy who helps him rediscover a few things about himself.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** . . .Okay, it's been so long since I posted that I completely blanked on what to say in the disclaimer! I do not own Stargate: Atlantis nor any of its wonderful characters. I'm just playing in their sandbox. Any and all original characters and locations, however, are of my own creation and are not meant to reflect any particular person, either living or dead, or location, either real or fictional.

**Author's Note:** Yes, it's me! With a new Christmas story! Hopefully everyone out there is having a great holiday season, and I pray all of you are blessed. And that you enjoy this little snippet. It's got a lot of RL in it for me. My year has been insanely busy, and I'm finally learning to let little things slide. That way, I can focus on stuff like writing for all of you. Seriously, it has been that kind of year. Writing takes time and energy to create a coherent story, and I have had very little of that.

For those of you waiting on the last story in the Trial by Fire series, it is in the works. I got the first half of it written during November's NaNoWriMo, and then the Christmas season hit. I have one more big event other than family Christmas on my agenda, and I should be back to writing that.

In the meantime, I give you this!

This story is set post-Season 5 by about two years, maybe more. So, spoilers for any and all episodes might be in here. This story was lovingly-and brutally-beta'd by **theicemenace**. I asked her to be brutal, so the polish of this is all her work. Thank you, my friend. I am a better person-and a better writer-for knowing you.

All of that said, I hope you enjoy!

~lg

~oOo~

_It is Christmas in the heart that puts Christmas in the air._

_~W. T. Ellis~_

~oOo~

The mission could not have come at a _worst_ time. Lieutenant Colonel Evan Lorne stared at Richard Woolsey, already trying to figure out how he was going to fit a resupply mission in with everything he had to accomplish before the day's dial-out to Earth.

Woolsey clearly read his face. "I'm sorry, Maj—Colonel," he said, still adjusting to Lorne's new rank. "Colonel Sheppard and his team are off world, and the rest of the teams are either coming, going, or in the infirmary. You're really the only experienced pilot available right now."

Rather than letting the frustration show on his face, Lorne nodded. "I understand, sir. What needs to happen?"

"Major Teldy's helping get the Jumper loaded." Woolsey walked around the desk and motioned for Lorne to follow. "All you need to do is fly it to Dr. Beckett's location, drop off the supplies, and return to Atlantis."

_All I need to do._ Lorne kept himself from rolling his eyes at the city's commander. Woolsey still had not learned that such statements tended to jinx missions. Instead, he nodded. "I'll leave within the hour."

The older man put a hand on Evan's shoulder. "I'll hold the dial out for you if you're delayed."

"Thank you." Evan left Teldy still loading the Jumper and stalked back to his quarters.

Why did Beckett pick today, of all days, to ask for a resupply run? Lorne knew it wasn't fair to hold it against the good doctor, and he also knew he couldn't let anyone feel responsible. But he'd been counting on escaping Atlantis to go to _Earth_, not another planet in the Pegasus galaxy.

The last several months had not been the easiest. Lorne snorted as he raced around his quarters to make certain he was packed and ready to leave for Earth. After spending two years on Earth, the IOA had finally allowed Atlantis to return to Pegasus. Lorne had signed up immediately, not really keen on leaving the City of the Ancients just yet. But he'd already been approved for ten days' leave when Atlantis flew home. He transferred that leave to Christmas and had been working diligently for months on gifts. He and his family had already made plans that packed those ten days on Earth to the brim, and Evan had been counting down the hours until he could leave.

Just _where_ was he supposed to find time for a resupply run? He knew he wasn't handling this as graciously as he should, but he couldn't bring himself to really care at the moment. His entire life, save for those few precious moments he carved out every night, revolved around this city and the care of her citizens. He had new Marines to train on city procedures, his own missions to run, training with his team, keeping himself in perfect physical condition, managing Sheppard's paperwork, scheduling missions through the gate, and a myriad of other, tiny minutiae that came through his office. He barely found time to sleep most days, and that was usually because he dropped into bed exhausted.

He wasn't the only one feeling this way. He'd seen the haggard expression on Dr. Keller's face and knew her calendar had to be just as full as his. She and McKay were still seeing each other, but that didn't stop the new Marines—the same ones Lorne was training—from asking her out every time she turned around. It had started to taper off in recent months, but it bugged everyone who knew the Doc and added just one more thing to Evan's plate.

Teyla also had a full schedule, what with her position on Sheppard's team and her family. Kanaan had, miraculously, waited for her to return to Pegasus, and she'd set up a household within the city for the two of them. Teyla spent her days torn between training the female personnel in hand-to-hand combat, leading meditation courses, missions with Sheppard's team, and trying to keep her growing son happy. Not to mention her health. Lorne had noticed she looked a bit peaked the last several days and wondered if she and Kanaan would welcome a new little one to the world soon.

Even Sheppard, with his devil-may-care attitude, looked stressed. As the military commander and a full-bird Colonel, even more responsibility landed on his shoulders than on Lorne's. Yet, the man still found time to go through the gate.

"Yeah, because _I'm_ doing his paperwork." Lorne shook his head. When he started talking to himself, he _knew_ he was stressed. It was only a matter of time before he had another sleepwalking incident. He needed to get off of Atlantis before then.

Way too soon for his liking, Lorne found himself behind the controls of a Jumper and flying through the wormhole. The village where Beckett had set up his clinic was in the mountains. Sheppard described it as "perfect." The location, however, made taking a load of supplies to the village somewhat problematic. The people near the gate lived in comfort, but the more remote villagers. . . .From what he'd been told, they lived happy lives but suffered some very basic needs at times, particularly during the winter.

Today, the weather near the gate was crisp and clear. The mountains hovered in the distance, however, and billowing clouds above them promised more snow for the already white landscape. A quick glance at his instruments told Lorne that the temperature was barely above freezing near the gate, and he spotted several children throwing snowballs at one another.

How long had it been since he'd had a snowball fight? Lorne shook his head. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had time to engage in something so frivolous. For just a moment, he hovered above the children, just close enough to see them but not so close as to frighten them. They turned and waved before he continued on his way.

By the time he reached the mountains, the clouds had lowered, and winds had begun to create some turbulence for the Jumper. Evan let his focus sharpen, setting aside all of his thoughts to focus on flying. The coordinates weren't too far away by Jumper, but they were tucked down inside a remote valley. And the wind had started picking up snow from the ground and hurtling it at him, making it difficult to see anything.

Evan reached the coordinates using instruments only. He set down on what the sensors told him was a good solid patch of snow and felt the Jumper sink slightly. Powering it down, he reached for the winter coat that he'd barely remembered to bring with him and smacked the switch to lower the back hatch. The cold slapped him in the face, and he quickly zipped the coat to his neck.

Beckett waited, a smile on his face as the cold turned his cheeks a bright red. "Och, Major! I was expectin' Colonel Sheppard."

Lorne didn't bother correcting the doc about his new rank. He was still getting accustomed to it himself. "Colonel Sheppard's on a mission. So you're stuck with me."

Beckett stuck out a hand. "'Tis good to see ya."

Lorne eyed the sky as he shook the doc's hand, noting how dark it had become even though he knew it to be only fourteen-hundred local time. "Let's get this unloaded before this storm really sets in."

"Aye."

The two men went to work, carting crates from the Jumper to a nearby house. Evan didn't give the area a second glance, intent on getting back to Atlantis in time to make the dial out. However, he knew the truth. He'd had enough trouble getting to the village in this storm. There was no way he'd risk flying out. The winds were too strong in these valleys, and the snow had reduced visibility to zero. No, it looked like he was stuck on an alien planet in the middle of a blizzard rather than going home for Christmas.

He sat back on his heels and glared at the sky. _Great_.

~oOo~

Carson Beckett watched as Lorne glared at the sky and sighed. Now that he'd had a few moments, he remembered that the man had been promoted to Lieutenant Colonel and was scheduled to head home for Christmas. Instead, he was stuck here in a blizzard, helping Carson fill his storeroom with supplies from Atlantis. Couldn't Colonel Sheppard have sent someone—anyone—else? Carson knew just how hard Lorne worked and hated that he'd miss his trip just because of a resupply run.

Rather than saying anything, he merely picked up another box and carried it to the clinic. Coming to this village had been refreshing after the last years on Earth. While he'd been offered a post on Atlantis, Carson had chosen to live off world. He was more comfortable that way and knew that, sooner or later, he'd have to get over the hesitation he felt around his colleagues. None of them ever reminded him that he wasn't the _real_ Carson Beckett unless something about those months between his "kidnapping" and his rescue was mentioned. But he always knew, always felt like he tried to fill a hole that never should have been there.

The storm settled over the village, turning the normally bright mid-afternoon to night within the hour. The temperatures had dropped drastically over the morning, and Carson had taken time to cut extra firewood. Now, he could barely see the buildings down the street from his home.

Lorne carried the final box through the door and stamped his feet on the stoop that had, somehow, not been covered with more than a dusting of snow. Then, he ducked inside the house and brushed off his dark hair. "I don't think I've _ever_ seen snow like that."

"Aye." Carson took the man's coat when he shrugged out of it and hung it near a pot-bellied stove. "My first storm here was an eye-opener, as well. I mean, Scotland gets snow, but these storms can be intense."

Lorne moved to a window and peered out. "Doc, I hate to make a pest of myself, but flying back through that isn't a great idea right now."

Carson nodded, thankful that Lorne had come to that conclusion. "Aye, I agree." He turned toward the kitchen. "Would ye like some o' that coffee ye brought, then?"

A genuine smile touched Lorne's face. "That would be great. Thanks."

While Carson fixed coffee, Lorne wandered. He heard the other man walk through every room downstairs and knew he'd see the quintessential doctor's home straight out of a Victorian village. He'd been blessed with this home and loved living here in spite of the distance from Atlantis. The villagers were dear to him, and the few demands they put on his time were never unwarranted.

Lorne moved back into the kitchen. "Quite a set-up you've got here, Doc."

Carson nodded. "This village has been good to me." He motioned toward the front of the house, pointing at the staircase that came up from the entryway. "The bedrooms are upstairs."

Lorne looked around, taking in the pot-bellied stove, the large fireplace, and the crude indoor plumbing. "If I didn't know any better, I'd think I had stepped into a Victorian village."

Carson chuckled at that. "Ye haven't seen the half o' it yet, Colonel."

"Make it 'Evan' while I'm here, Doc." Lorne shook his head. "I'm still not used to the rank."

Carson didn't even try to correct him. He'd become so accustomed to "Doc" that it felt almost like another name rather than a title.

Leading the way into the sitting room, called a parlor by many of the villagers, he motioned Evan onto a comfortable couch while he took the easy chair. From his vantage point, he could peer out the window and see anyone who passed by. The gloom of the storm made it difficult now, but he still smiled.

His attention turned to his guest. Evan sat on the edge of the couch, shoulders slumped as he cradled a cup of coffee in both hands. The steam rose into his face, but Evan never noticed as he glared at the silver tray holding the hodgepodge tea set Carson had chosen to use. Every few seconds, he'd glance at his watch, and his shoulders would fall a little more.

Carson narrowed his eyes. "I'm certain Mr. Woolsey will get you home as quickly as possible."

Evan's head came up so fast he winced as it wrenched his neck. "Thanks, Doc." He heaved a sigh. "I was planning to take my sister shopping when I got there. And to spend some time with my mom."

Carson did a bit of math, counting the days. Ten days until Christmas. The last blizzard had lasted four days. "You'll be able ta make it by then."

"Yeah, but not what I'd planned." Evan glanced away, clearly hoping to avoid discussing plans that were obviously cancelled. "Sorry, Doc. Just not in the mood to talk about it.

Carson let the matter drop and settled back to enjoy the quiet. The wind whistled down the street outside, and he began going over his plans for the next day. He needed to call on Deborah and check on her son, visit Abigail and make certain her wee one was survivin' his first blizzard at only a week old, and see to several elders in the village. A quick glance out the window told him that it would be a bit more difficult with the weather, but he was fairly confident he could manage. He just needed to figure a way to handle the cranky lieutenant colonel stuck in his home. Maybe, if that happened, he'd be able to help Evan Lorne enjoy Christmas even if it wasn't the holiday the other man had planned.

~oOo~

Evan wanted to kick himself. He'd always been unflappable, yet he'd sat in the doctor's living room, drinking coffee, and brooding over his circumstances. But he should _never_ have been called upon for this mission. He had seen teams with missions scrubbed over and over again because one of the members was rotating back to Earth for vacation. Why couldn't the same courtesy have been extended to him?

_Because you didn't insist on it._ The answer came to him as quickly as he'd thought of the question. It was true. He hadn't put himself out there and insisted on staying on Atlantis. Now that he considered his actions, he could tell Woolsey had been waiting for him to protest. But he hadn't. Why? Because the easiest way to get anything done—and done right—was to ask a busy person. Evan knew that as well as anyone, so he usually took the weight of extra tasks on himself.

The afternoon passed quietly, with Beckett moving from his chair long enough to show Evan to a room upstairs and then adding more wood to the fire. Evan took a few moments to explore the rest of the house, marveling at what he saw. While Carson had made coffee, he'd spied the miniature Christmas tree, complete with a couple of wrapped presents, sitting near a brick-faced fireplace. Every window in the house sported pretty lace curtains. The whole place looked as if it came straight out of the Christmas village his mother set up on the fireplace mantle every year. Even the artwork on the walls, all of it hand-stitched samplers, lived up to the image in Evan's mind.

Finally alone, Evan took a moment to put his hands on his hips and think. The disappointment of not going home when he'd planned was keen, and he couldn't help wonder how much of Christmas he'd miss. He knew he'd find a way to wrestle with his nephews, but shopping with his sister was a maybe. As was painting with his mom. There just never seemed to be enough time to do _anything_, and it irritated him all over again.

Realizing he was working himself into a rage, Evan ran a hand over his face. While he'd been brooding, Dr. Beckett had been giving him the space he needed to come to grips with being stuck in a snowstorm. And not just any storm. Based on the way the wind hollered up and down the street in front of the house and rattled shutters and windows, it would be a rough few days.

Finally deciding that it was too cold in the room to stay without starting a fire, he glanced at his watch and headed back downstairs. It was suppertime on Atlantis, and Evan rolled his eyes when his stomach growled. He'd skipped lunch in favor of making this supply run and now wondered if he should mention something to Beckett. Not that he would. He'd already been exceptionally rude to his host and intended to make things right. "Doc?"

"In here." The response led Evan back to the sitting room. He found Beckett crouched by the fireplace, adding another log. Now that he was in a mood to notice, he also spotted the afghan on the back of the couch, more samplers on the walls, a beautiful bookcase filled with various journals, and one very happy physician in the middle of it all.

Beckett stood to his feet, wincing as his knees popped. "Did ye need somethin'?"

"Uh. . ." It took Evan a moment to bring his thoughts back around to his previous plan. "Just wanted to apologize for. . . ."

Beckett held up a hand. "No apology needed. I know a thing or two of wha' it's like to want to go home."

Evan nodded, remembering all at once that the doc would have a pretty good grasp on how he felt at the moment. Instead of commenting, he moved to the fireplace as Beckett puttered around with clearing the coffee set from the table. Then, he mentioned something about cooking supper, leaving Evan to his thoughts.

Rather than staring morosely out the window at the deepening storm, Evan moved to study the piece over the fireplace. About eighteen inches wide and eight inches tall, it featured soft colors on hand-dyed fabric. Somehow, it looked like Christmas without being overdone.

Beckett returned to the room. "Och, Deborah made that for me."

Evan turned at the warm tone in the doctor's voice. "Sorry. Deborah?"

"She's a single mum in the village." Carson shook his head. "Her husband passed about five years back, killed in a mining accident. Her son, Gavriel, took sick a week ago. She'd been workin' on that in the evenin's." He turned to the framed sampler on the wall. "She wanted me to have somethin' to remember this village by."

Evan's eyes narrowed at the way Beckett smiled at the thought of this woman. Did the good doctor have a thing for someone here? Is that why he'd stayed so long? Or could it be this house? "Well, I've got to say you've done well for yourself here."

"Aye, 'tis a blessing." Beckett stared into the fireplace. "I came here shortly after their last village doctor passed on. Not only did they need me here, but I feel at home here. The village is beautiful, an' I can ignore the rest of the galaxy. Especially now that most of the survivors of the Hoffan plague have recovered."

Evan understood that feeling. But he had to put in a word for Colonel Sheppard. "You know there's a place for you on Atlantis."

"Of course!" Beckett shrugged, his expression turning thoughtful. "But I don't fit there. Not really. Anythin' would feel like it was done to accommodate me, whether that was true or not. So, I'd rather. . . ."

"Live in a picture-perfect village and be a small town doctor?"

"Aye."

Evan chose not to pursue the topic. He'd never admit it to anyone, but he was somewhat relieved that Beckett had found such a place. He'd been decent friends with the original Dr. Beckett, and finding his clone had thrown most everyone in Atlantis for a loop. Rodney McKay liked to pretend that year without his best friend never happened, but Evan couldn't let it go that easily. He'd finally finished the painting he'd started the day the first Carson Beckett had been killed, and having _this_ Carson Beckett around had helped him move on. However, having Carson on Atlantis and _not_ as the Chief of Medicine would have been too much of a reminder.

While he was lost in thought, Beckett moved to the kitchen and returned with two steaming bowls of stew. Evan accepted his with a soft word of thanks and settled on the couch. This time, he relaxed and met Beckett's eyes. "So, how long do these storms tend to last?"

"Oh. . . ." Carson thought for a moment, blowing on a bite of stew as he did so. "Three days. Maybe four."

Evan winced. "Well, guess there's a first time for everything."

"Major—I mean, Colonel?"

"Never been in a true blizzard." Evan shrugged as he glanced out the window. All he saw was his reflection and hints of the white-out conditions. "What sort of recovery is there after this?"

Carson thought for a moment. "Basic recovery, mostly. A few roofs to repair, shoveling snow from the streets, puttin' down salt. That sort of thing. Nothin' that should delay your trip back to Atlantis once the worst of it lifts."

Evan set aside his meal and met the doctor's eyes. "Listen, Doc, I know I'm not too happy about being here. But if the people need help to recover, I want to know. That way, I can organize some assistance as quickly as possible."

Beckett took another moment to consider his words. "The biggest concern is the mine. Odds are good the miners holed up in there, an' I'd be willin' ta bet we'll be treatin' a fair number o' them for frostbite. Other than that. . . ."

Evan nodded and picked up his food. "Got it."

The two men ate in silence, and then Evan watched Carson stand to his feet. He took a kerosene lamp toward the front window and, using a long match, lit a candle there. He strained his eyes, barely seeing another candle in the house across the way. "Doc?"

"'Tis a Christmas candle," Beckett explained as he blew out the match. Returning the kerosene lamp to its normal location near his chair, he shrugged. "Me mum used ta light it every night during the Christmas season."

"I know what it is." Evan frowned. "You still celebrate?"

"Not normally." Beckett's expression turned sheepish. "I made the mistake of mentionin' that the town looked like a Christmas village. The elders wanted ta know wha' a Christmas village was, then about the holiday, and then about my beliefs. I'd been here two months before I found out they'd decided to observe Christmas on the twenty-fifth day of the last month of the year."

Evan blinked. "You introduced them to Christmas?"

Carson's eyes started to twinkle as he smiled. "Aye. They'd just been culled by the Wraith before I came, an' many o' them needed a reason to celebrate. So, we're celebratin' Christmas."

"Tree and all?"

"In the village square."

Evan stared at the gleeful doctor, already realizing that Carson had likely goosed things along as he learned of the villagers plans. Somehow, he could see that about the Scotsman.

Another thought crossed his mind, one he still wasn't too happy about but knew might be the reality. Maybe, just maybe, he'd be able to celebrate Christmas after all.

~TBC


	2. Chapter 2

Evan woke the next morning to the smell of cooking meat and wood smoke combined with the sound of a raging blizzard. He blinked at the ceiling, frowning at the grit in his eyes and the exhaustion he felt. He hadn't slept particularly well, primarily because he'd stayed up way too late. Atlantis had finally sent a second Jumper to break through the interference caused by the storm. With that pilot acting as a relay station, Evan learned that Woolsey had waited as long as possible to dial Earth. When Evan didn't return to Atlantis, they'd proceeded with the dial out while making plans to get Evan back as quickly as possible.

The forecast that came with the contact from Atlantis hadn't encouraged him much, either. The Jumper pilot reported that the worst of the storm had yet to hit and wouldn't arrive until late the second afternoon, if not the third day. Evan found himself unable to think selfishly, worrying about the miners trapped by the storm and wondering how the villagers dealt with this weather all the time. He liked the perfect Christmas weather—snow gently falling on already white ground—but this was a little extreme.

After the brief contact with his normal life, Evan had retired to bed, banking the fire and crawling under the thick blankets. Carson had been busy while Evan chatted with Atlantis, and the military man found a nice warm brick at his feet. It took the sting of the cold sheets away and helped him stop shivering so much. And it reminded him of simpler times.

For a long time, Evan had laid in bed, staring at the ceiling and letting the peace of the place wrap around him. Yes, a storm raging outside wouldn't usually be called peaceful. But, at the moment, he was warm, dry, and safe. If he had to be separated from his family right then, he couldn't ask for better circumstances. It was definitely an improvement over being taken hostage or pinned down by enemy fire.

Crawling out of bed and taking the warm quilt with him, Evan hurried to light the fire that Carson had banked the night before. He made a mental note to thank the doctor and decided that he could pull his own weight. Yes, he was a guest in Carson's home. Yes, he was unfamiliar with his surroundings. But he was also a grown man and could see to himself. It was time to grow up and stop acting like a child, even if it was only in his own mind.

Pep talk over and fire crackling, Evan reached for the uniform he'd shucked the night before. Pulling it on over the long underwear Carson had loaned him, he hovered at the fireplace until he felt warm enough to traipse downstairs.

He found Carson in the kitchen, frying meat in a skillet while an iron kettle hung over the big fireplace in one wall. The room was comfortably warm, and he saw the doc had already dressed for the day. "Mornin'."

Carson turned. "Good mornin'." He gave Evan a cheery smile. "I wasn't sure what you liked for breakfast."

"Anything is fine." Evan helped himself to the coffee set already on the table and shook his head. If someone had told him he'd spend part of his Christmas holiday cooped up in a Victorian house with the clone of a former friend, he'd have laughed in their face. Yet, here he was. And, for the moment, he couldn't ask for much better company.

After Carson served breakfast and settled at the opposite side of the table, Evan decided to pick a bone with the man. "So, Doc, is the village the only reason you stay here?"

Carson frowned at him until he saw Evan's smirk. "If you're askin' if I'm sweet on one o' the ladies here. . . ." His voice trailed off as a faint blush marked the doctor's cheeks.

Evan couldn't resist stirring the pot. "Her name wouldn't happen to be Deborah, would it?"

"_What_? No!" Carson's affront was softened by the way he grinned. "Deborah's a beautiful woman, to be sure, but she's had a rough life. As a matter of fact, I'm headed out after breakfast to see her if you'd like to join me."

Just like that, Carson effectively changed the subject. Evan frowned out at the gloom. "You sure that's a wise idea, Doc? It's looking pretty nasty out there."

"Deborah's son had bronchitis, Colonel." The note of mild affection Carson had for the boy was obvious. "He's just barely startin' to recover."

Evan's brow lowered. "How old is the kid, and how'd he get sick?"

"Eight." Carson shook his head. "He went outside durin' the last blizzard to cut wood so he an' his mum wouldn't freeze. There's no way I'm lettin' the lad put his life in danger again."

"You're cutting the wood?"

"Aye."

Evan shook his head and smiled. "I'll come with you and make sure they have everything they need while you check on the kid."

Carson glanced away. "If you're doin' that, ye might be a wee bit busy. I'm not just stayin' at Deborah's. I've got a few other patients who need my time, too."

Evan chuckled. "You know, Doc, it does not surprise me in the least that you've taken to life as a small-town doctor, making rounds and such like they used to do."

Carson shrugged. "It's a life," he said softly, "an' one I appreciate. After my time with Michael and again on Earth, I've learned that some so-called advances are just not worth it."

Evan thought about that as he finished his breakfast. Life in this village moved at a different pace. Something as simple as eating a meal took longer, but the doctor seemed in no rush to finish everything. He simply did what he could do and was satisfied with that. No more, and no less.

Everyone on Atlantis could stand to learn that lesson. Evan continued to mull over his realization as he returned to his room to bundle into his winter coat and gloves for their excursion. Sometimes, it just wasn't worth it to rush all over the place and try to accomplish everything. Sometimes, letting the small stuff go was better.

The pair made their way into the storm a few moments later. The sky had lightened so that they could see a bit easier, and the white-out conditions had eased slightly. The wind still whipped around them, telling Evan that flying through the storm was still a bad idea, and he could see lights in all the windows. The bits of the village he saw as Carson led him down narrow streets and around corners cemented the idea of a Christmas village in his mind. Over the howling wind, Carson pointed out the bakery, the blacksmith, the town hall, and several other buildings. All of them were sturdy houses, with shops below the homes of their owners. And most of them had some sort of Christmas decoration outside, whether a wreath or small tree or just a light glowing in each window.

Carson finally came to a small two-story home and found a staircase on the side of the building. He explained that Deborah was a seamstress and managed to support herself and her son with her work. But the building looked slightly unkempt, and the wood pile behind the shop was woefully small.

A boy with a shock of dark hair answered their knock with a deep cough and smile. "Doc! Mom, it's the Doc!"

Evan grinned as he and Carson stepped into the house. The place seemed overly warm compared to the storm outside, and he loosened the scarf around the lower part of his face.

Carson knelt to look the boy in the eye. "Gavriel, this is my friend, Master Lorne. He's from Atlantis as well. Colonel, this is Gavriel."

Yanking off the mittens Carson had loaned him, Evan stuck out his hand. "It's nice to meet you, Gavriel."

The boy slapped his palm and then gave his hand a hearty shake. "I thought Master Sheppard's first name was 'Colonel.'"

Carson laughed sheepishly, but Evan took it in stride. He had a nephew this age and was always refreshed by a child's honesty. Crouching down like Carson had, he met Gavriel's eyes. "My first name is 'Evan.' 'Colonel' is a rank we use in our military. So my full name is Lieutenant Colonel Evan Gabriel Lorne."

Gavriel's eyes grew wider. "Your second name sounds like mine."

Evan thought about it for a moment. "Yes, it does."

The boy rushed off when his mother called him, giving the two men from Atlantis a moment alone. Evan lowered his voice. "Master?"

"'Tis how these people refer to one another. Master and Mistress. Deborah would be Mistress Deborah, much like we'd use Mister and Missus on Earth." Carson's explanation made him nod in understanding.

The lady of the house appeared before Evan could do much more than nod in acknowledgment of the doctor's words. She wore a long dress that brushed the tops of her feet, leather shoes of some sort, and a shawl around her shoulders. But her appearance captured Evan's attention. Standing around five-six, she was slender with an elegance to her movements that surprised most people. Her dark brown hair had been gracefully pulled away from her face and tucked into a bun at the crown of her head. A few wisps framed her face, which had brightened at the sight of her visitors. When she moved forward to greet them, Evan blinked and realized he'd been staring. But he couldn't help it. She looked just like his sister!

Carson covered his lapse in good manners. "Deborah, this is Lieutenant Colonel Evan Lorne. He's second-in-command of the Atlantis Expedition."

Deborah's face lit up with a smile. "Colonel, it's an honor to meet you."

Evan shook her hand. "And you." He glanced down where Gavriel was hovering near his mother's side. "Dr. Beckett tells me your son is quite the woodcutter."

Deborah dropped a hand to her son's shoulder. "He is."

Carson glanced between the three people there. "Colonel, if ye don't mind, I need ta speak with Deborah and Gavriel."

Evan picked up his cue and nodded. "Of course."

As Carson led the mother and son toward the kitchen, Evan pulled his mittens back on and slipped out the door. The storm still raged, but the warmth from the house lingered. It was enough to break his heart when he saw the threadbare hem of Deborah's dress, the thin rugs on the floor, and the patched cushions on the furniture. She clearly supported herself and her son well, but the extras were obviously difficult to come by.

And the woodpile needed help. Based on how much wood Carson used, this pile would last Deborah and Gavriel another day at most. A bunch of wood lay nearby, just needing to be cut, and Evan easily found the axe in the stump. For the next thirty minutes, he cut wood and had a strong chat with himself.

How could he have been selfishly bemoaning not going back to Earth for Christmas when this woman and her son barely had enough wood to keep them warm? Of course, he didn't know that until now, but it shamed him greatly. These villagers had opened their homes and hearts to Carson, and the good doctor had everything he needed while Deborah and Gavriel went without. No wonder Carson spoke of Deborah with such warmth. She deserved it for not raising a stink when the rest of the village seemed intent on ignoring her circumstances.

His attitude adjusted, Evan finished cutting what wood he could and made a mental note to return periodically before he left for Atlantis. He might not be able to get much done, but he could traipse down here every day to make certain Deborah and Gavriel had enough wood. He saw Carson eye the pile and nodded, knowing he'd split enough of the logs to keep the pair warm for the next two days.

Carson's second stop was a young couple in a cottage near the edge of town. It wasn't much, but the mother had been busy making a home for herself and her new husband. This visit didn't take long as Carson merely wanted to check in on the newborn in the mother's arms, and then they were off again. By the time they returned to Carson's home, Evan had been greeted by grandmothers, had his hand shaken by grandfathers, and met one very fascinating young boy named Gavriel. Even though he still found himself slightly irritated at being stuck here, he had to admit that his life was richer for having known those people ever so briefly.

~oOo~

Carson watched Evan as the other man shed the layers he'd worn during their morning expedition. The storm had deepened, and Carson doubted they'd be able to venture out very much the next day. He had enough reading material in his house to keep himself busy. However, he wondered just what would occupy the lieutenant colonel's time.

He needn't have worried. Evan shared a quiet lunch with him and then went upstairs for a bit. He returned with a sketchpad and sat near the window, alternately sketching and staring outside. The afternoon passed in quiet contemplation until Carson managed to get a glimpse of Evan's work. He'd known the other man was an artist, but seeing a lifelike rendition of Deborah appear on the page. . . . "Colonel, I should warn ye that Deborah's in love with a man named Jude."

Evan blinked at him and then frowned. "Sorry?" His frown turned sheepish when Carson motioned to the sketchpad. "Oh. No, it's nothing like that, Doc. She just looks like my sister. Not sure I could get past that even if I wanted to."

The answer was not what Carson expected, and he choked on the coffee he'd been drinking. When Evan grinned, he shook his head. "How's that for irony?"

The two men passed the rest of the day either reading or talking about the minutiae of life in this village. Carson retired that night with a smile on his face and knowing that he could not ask for a better home or better friends.

~oOo~

It took Evan the better part of the night to realize what had happened to him. Up until the midnight hour passed, he'd been lying in bed and listening to the storm rage outside. A part of him was grateful the doc had picked that day to do his rounds. But the other part of him just wanted to get back to Atlantis and home.

He couldn't even be certain what triggered the realization or why it chose the middle of the night to occur to him. He had been outlining his plans for his return to Earth, trying to reorganize his time so he could still paint with his mother around all the other events the group had planned. His sister had emailed him several weeks ago to tell him that she was bringing someone home and not to act like a typical big brother. And Evan had started plotting ways to annoy her by doing just that. Besides, any man brave enough to date his sister after she'd lost her husband in Afghanistan was up to the task of impressing her older brother. And his mother had asked him to take a day to paint at the Golden Gate. They rarely got time to do that, and Evan had readily agreed. Before he knew it, ten days had filled up with friends and extended family also wanting a piece of his time.

Now, he was stuck in a Victorian village where the most important thing on his mind was whether a widow and her young son had enough firewood to get through the night. The pressures of being awakened unexpectedly to run a rescue op on another world, the rush to get everything done, the worry that Sheppard would end up in the infirmary again. . . .All of it had faded until it seemed almost a vague memory.

And _that's_ when Evan's epiphany hit. All this time, he'd been bemoaning his lack of time when he'd been given the perfect opportunity to slow down.

He closed his eyes and shook his head. Then, while forcing the tension from his shoulders, he began to objectively examine his typical day. He rose before sunrise, going for a run that he always enjoyed. That was part of his daily routine that helped him focus. Then, he ate breakfast with his team, though he frequently had a tablet or paperwork in his hand. As a result, he remembered little of those mornings save the signatures that some scientist or another required. After breakfast, he either geared up for a mission or settled into his office for a long morning of reading reports, filling out requisition forms, and keeping up with which department was researching what. Lunch came and went with him grabbing an apple from the mess hall on his way to either a training session with the Marines or a mission if necessary. By suppertime, he dropped into a chair to eat with his team while thinking over everything that didn't get done that day.

Out of all of that, he never really stopped working. The paperwork he did over breakfast could wait, and whatever scientist needed his signature _now_ could learn to take their place in line. Most of the requisition forms were well ahead of their due dates, and lunch was necessary. Sometimes, he'd have to hustle for missions, but he didn't need to run frantically through his day trying to get everything done. Who cared if he didn't read every mission report? Or clear his inbox before the day ended? That wasn't what mattered in life.

What mattered was his team, his family, and his friends. Sometimes, those were a little hard to distinguish because they often overlapped, but it was time that he start investing in those people rather than acting like an automaton because he was so tired.

And he'd start now. Giving himself permission to relax, Evan stopped listening for Wraith darts—that couldn't fly through the storm if they wanted—and quit checking his watch. Instead, he rolled onto his side and closed his eyes. He would get home when the time was right. And, until then, he'd focus on exactly what he'd wished for: spending time on what needed doing and those who needed his attention. Everything else could wait.

~TBC

**Author's Note:** So, this is the chapter that brings in a lot of my own RL. Life this year has been beyond insane, between remodeling the house and remodeling the church and losing my husband's grandmother in March and an Easter drama to organize and Easter and the trip to her memorial and having surgery and a family reunion and camp and more remodeling and a family wedding and a marriage seminar at church and our pastor's tenth anniversary as our pastor and a camping trip and. . . .I'm out of breath just reading that sentence, and it doesn't even begin to cover the day-to-day stuff. It took me until this month-December 2013-to realize that life will not fall apart if I don't get everything done in one day. As a result, I've tried to slow down, be patient, and just enjoy each day as it comes.

With that mentality in mind, I set out to write this story. I am _not_ abandoning it, as you might suspect. I'm just letting you know that the next two days are filled with family. So, if the next two or three chapters don't get up until closer to New Year's, that means Christmas just runs a little longer for us. And who knows? Maybe it'll be good for all of us-myself included-to remember that Christmas is about people and not the activities.

If I don't get another chapter up before then, I hope every single one of you has a very Merry Christmas filled with laughter, love, and something more than just a trinket. I pray you are all blessed during this holiday week!

Merry Christmas!  
~lg


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note:** Well, folks, here it is. A few days late, but finished none-the-less. This story was never meant to be overly long, and the whole point was to introduce Evan to the same thing I realized: Life is about the lives you touch as you travel through it, not the activities we plan and execute. I pray each of you had a wonderful Christmas with your families, and I pray your New Year is one filled with those special moments with family and friends.

May Jesus bless you all!

~ladygris

~oOo~

The storm lifted late on the third day. Evan had spent most of it cooped up in Carson's home, working to keep the doctor from knowing just how badly cabin fever had struck. Today, it had nothing to do with his original plans to return to Earth. He just needed to _move_. Sitting and reading and sketching was fine for a short length of time. But Evan was accustomed to sparring on a regular basis, daily runs, moving about Atlantis, and in general staying active.

When the howling winds finally calmed, Evan pulled on his winter coat. In spite of Carson's objections, he knew he could make contact with Atlantis now. Finding the Jumper turned out to be a bit of a nuisance. The wind had caused the snow to completely cover it. But the small craft powered up immediately, and Evan settled in the seat. Within minutes, he lifted off, and his speed cleared the remaining snow from his windshield.

As soon as he was in range, he dialed Atlantis and keyed his radio. "Colonel Lorne to Atlantis."

"_Colonel!_" Chuck's surprise came through the line as clearly as if the man had been in the Jumper. "_It's good to hear your voice._"

"Likewise. Is Colonel Sheppard or Mr. Woolsey around?"

A second voice came over the radio. "_We're here_," Sheppard replied.

"Sir, with your permission, I'd like to organize some help for these people." Evan went on to outline the things that Carson had told him, most notably the number of miners trapped by the snowstorm. "The only doc they've got is Beckett, and I know he'll be overwhelmed. And, if this storm caused any damage like the ones on Earth, we'll need extra hands to get all the homes ready for the next storm."

"_We'll get back with you, Colonel,_" Woolsey answered. "_Will you be returning to Earth?_"

"Ah. . ." Evan thought about his epiphany the other night. "With your permission, I'd like to stay on here for a few more days and help."

"_Understood._" Woolsey sounded a touch confused. "_We'll contact you with details within the hour. Atlantis out._"

Evan turned the Jumper back toward the village and sighed. It didn't all have to get done today. He could let his family know that their plans would just have to slow down to accommodate his job. Besides, he did enough running in his job. He needed to relax at home.

Carson was waiting for him and visibly brightened when Evan explained that Atlantis was sending extra help.

The next morning, the sun peeked through the clouds. Evan had received a radio transmission the previous evening. Sheppard and his team would lead several Jumpers through the gate packed with supplies and manpower to repair the village as well as give them a head-start on preparing for the next one. Evan woke early, eager to get started on the day.

Within a few hours, Sheppard had arrived and started overseeing the relief efforts in town. The village had been built to last during a storm, so the most work needed was shoveling the elderly out of their homes and replacing shingles here and there. The biggest concern was the coal mine a few miles away. Carson organized a rescue attempt, and Evan found himself traipsing through feet of snow and doing his best to stay upright.

They reached the mine at noon. As Carson predicted, the miners had holed up inside and tried to wait out the storm. But more than a few of them showed signs of frostbite and hypothermia. Evan stood back and let the doctors do their work, handing out cups of hot coffee and food to those still mobile. The location of the mine made it difficult to land a Jumper, and these men were stuck walking back to town or being carried on a stretcher.

Reaching the edge of the village was cause for excitement. Families who had worried about their loved ones lined the streets, looking for familiar faces. One, in particular, surprised Evan. He had fallen into step with the mine foreman, a slender guy with sandy hair and an accent that sounded vaguely British. They'd chatted for a short time, the man introducing himself as Jude. Evan thought about Deborah and Carson's warning that she loved a guy named Jude and found himself wondering if this was _that_ Jude.

He found out it was when they reached town. Amid the happy cries of mothers, wives, and children happy to see the miners, a shout went up from behind most of the people. Evan turned as Gavriel pushed his way through and barreled into Jude's legs. He hugged the man tightly before looking up with shining eyes. "I did what you said! I helped!"

"You did?" Jude crouched in front of Gavriel while Evan looked on. "Was she happy you helped?"

Gavriel nodded and then eyed Evan. "Master Lorne also helped. He cut firewood because I couldn't."

Evan grinned at Jude's questioning glance. "They needed wood, and the doc was making sure this guy was healthy."

Jude nodded. "That's good," he told Gavriel. "You can't help your mother if you're not well."

Gavriel nodded seriously, but Jude's attention had been drawn elsewhere. The man stood and touched Gavriel's head before walking directly to Deborah and pulling her into a relieved hug. Evan grinned at the reunion, touched at how much Jude obviously loved _both_ Gavriel and Deborah.

Gavriel tugged on Evan's sleeve. "He loves her," he whispered loudly.

Evan chuckled. "I know," he whispered back. But he couldn't stop the lump in his throat. Watching Jude and Deborah was like watching his sister and her late husband. Every time his brother-in-law had come home from a deployment, the pair had hugged one another the same way. It made Evan alternately long for someone to love him like that and hope it never happened. The day they received word of his brother-in-law's death had confirmed what he'd known. Military life—_his_ life—had room in it for a woman's love, but the price of that love was higher than he was willing to pay. So, he watched out for those he considered family.

"What's wrong?" Gavriel's question pulled Evan from his thoughts. "You look sad."

"I am." Evan knelt to speak to the boy while Jude and Deborah talked softly a few feet away. "Your mom reminds me of my sister. Her husband was in our army, and he. . . ." He wondered how to bring up the topic of his brother-in-law's death to a boy who had lost his father.

"He died?" Gavriel asked wide-eyed. "Like my father?"

"Yeah, like that." Evan met Gavriel's eyes. "Seeing your mom so happy is almost like seeing my sister happy again."

Gavriel looked at him seriously then eyed his mom. "I think it makes me happy, too," he said with a thoughtful scowl on his face. "At least I won't have to cut wood anymore."

Evan couldn't have stopped the laugh even if he'd wanted. Jude chose that moment to call Gavriel over to him, and Evan left the trio to their reunion. He found Colonel Sheppard and put himself to work with a hammer and nails. Ironically, he ended up on Deborah's roof, replacing shingles that had been gone longer than the storm had been brewing.

Jude found him there, happily nailing away and figuring out how to tell his family to slow down. "Colonel Lorne."

Evan glanced up. "Just Evan, please. I'm not officially on duty right now."

Jude reached for another hammer and started working. "I just wanted to say thanks for watching out for Deborah and Gavriel while I was gone."

Evan sat back on his heels, getting a glimpse of the massive Christmas tree in the village square. "Happy to do it." He thought for a moment and then decided to plunge ahead. "Jude, I know I'm probably stepping out of bounds, and I hope you'll forgive me. But Deborah and Gavriel need someone watching out for them more than just now and then." He shrugged at the man's sharp glance. "Deborah reminds me of my sister, and I'm always thankful for every person who helps her out, especially with her two boys. But my sister needs more than just a visit to cut the grass or. . . ."

Jude held up a hand. "I think I understand the point you are trying to make." He met Evan's eyes. "Your sister is a widow, like Deborah?"

"Yeah."

"I pray she finds someone who can make her as happy as she once was." Jude's gaze turned distant. "Just as I have."

Evan blinked and then turned to see Deborah and Gavriel walking toward the house. The pair glanced up and caught sight of them, waving enthusiastically. But Evan doubted that Deborah even saw him. She had eyes for Jude, and he noticed the feeling was mutual.

Jude turned back to his work when the pair disappeared. "Colonel, would you consider returning in the spring?" He glanced at Evan with a smirk. "It is customary to invite friends to one's wedding, is it not?"

Evan blinked at him and then grinned widely. "My friend, I'd be honored."

~oOo~

Returning to Earth seemed almost surreal after five days in a Victorian village. Evan's mind had become accustomed to life at a slower pace. Flying out of Colorado Springs and then driving through San Francisco after his plane landed left his head whirling. But he happily set all that aside to knock on his mother's front door. A Christmas tree filled the front window, and he'd glimpsed his sister and her two sons playing in front of a lit fireplace. It was the perfect San Francisco Christmas tableau, and he'd taken a few moments to snap a picture on a disposable camera so he could paint it later.

Now, though, he just wanted to get inside. The rain had started before he arrived, and it soaked everything, including him. Shivering, he smiled when his mother answered his knock. "Merry Christmas!"

"Evan!" Paige Lorne gasped and then grabbed his hand to yank him inside. "Oh, get out of the rain before you get sick!"

Evan laughed at the practical side of his mother. She insisted on taking his wet rain coat before she pulled him into a long, warm hug. When she pulled back, she had tears in her eyes. "I didn't think you'd make it home."

"I wasn't sure I would, either." Evan turned to greet his two ecstatic nephews as well as his sister, all of whom had been drawn by Paige's surprise. A shadow moved behind them, and Evan straightened as he saw a large man slip out of his mother's kitchen. "Who's this?"

Angela, his sister, moved to the man's side. "Evan, this is Brian. Brian, my brother Evan."

While Brian outweighed him and stood nearly four inches taller, Evan managed to make the man blink by giving him that famous Major Lorne stare. Its name had not been altered in spite of his promotion, and he briefly considered razzing the guy. But then he saw the determination in Brian's brown eyes and how his nephews hovered in the background he relented. "Nice to meet you, Brian. And welcome to the family."

Angela's jaw flapped open. "How did you know?"

Paige moved to Evan's side. "Know what?"

Brian and Angela shared a long look, and then Brian spoke. "We were going to wait until Christmas to tell you, but Evan here kind of spoiled the surprise." He grinned at the two of them. "I came to Christmas this year to ask you both for the privilege of marrying Angela and becoming a father to these two fine boys."

Paige didn't know what to say. Her jaw flapped in a perfect imitation of her daughter, and she immediately hugged Angela. The emotion in the room climbed higher as the two women laughed and cried together. Evan, however, kept it all contained. He stood next to Brian, watching the two women rejoice over this new turn in Angela's life. Feeling he was safe to say something with his sister preoccupied, he lowered his voice. "Take care of her," he said with a hint of warning in his tone.

Brian glanced at him. "She knows how to use guns," he said just as softly. "I know better than to step out of line."

Evan chuckled at his rueful tone, fully aware that his sister would never endanger those she loved. He let out a deep breath as he allowed the joy of the season and the peace he'd found in that Victorian village to wrap around him. At Brian's concerned glance, he shrugged. "It's good to be home."

~oOo~

Late that night, Evan slipped into the living room. Angela and the boys had retired early, and Brian had been given his room in his absence. So, he was stuck sleeping on the couch. It didn't bother him in the least after seeing his sister so happy. Besides, it meant he'd be awakened by two energetic nephews longing for hot chocolate and a little time with their Uncle Evan.

The Christmas village his mother always displayed had been spread out on the mantle again this year. Evan absorbed the residual warmth of the dying fire while looking over every facet of it. Paige Lorne had designed this village, casting and painting it by hand when he was a child. His mother's artistry covered several mediums, not just painting. Now, he mentally began assigning names to the figures skating around the large Christmas tree. There was Deborah's tired but happy house. Over on that side of the tree stood Carson's warm home. And right in the middle of it, Deborah and Jude ice skated together while Gavriel teetered beside them.

"Evan?" Paige slipped an arm into his.

"Just thinking." He turned to sit on the couch, leaving his mother's chair for her. The Christmas tree sparkled in the corner. "I know we had all this stuff planned for my visit, and I showed up the day before Christmas Eve. Sorry."

"From what your commanding officer said, you were helping some refugees." Her words made Evan's eyebrows rise. "That's more important, Evan."

His eyes went back to the Christmas village. "Maybe," he agreed. "But I learned a lot while I was there, too." He realized his mother was staring at him as if he'd grown a second head. "I just learned that it all doesn't have to get done in one day. That there are things worth letting go so the bigger issues can be dealt with. I hope Angie can forgive me for not taking her shopping, and that the boys understand there isn't a gift under the tree this year with my name on it."

"Oh, but there is." Paige smirked. "Angie made certain of it."

Evan laughed at his sister's presumptive actions. "Still, I think the rest of the family and friends can wait. I'll take Angie shopping after Christmas, and Brian and I can work out our own thing with the boys. You and I are definitely going to paint, but I think our time needs to be ours. Not everyone else's."

Paige nodded slowly. "I think you're right," she said as she stood. "And that starts now. Would you like some coffee while we stay up way too late and talk?"

"Love some." Evan stood and returned to the mantle, smiling again at the Christmas village while his mother hurried off into the kitchen. He never would have planned to be stuck in the middle of a blizzard on another planet at Christmas. But it had worked out. He now felt as if he'd been dragged into a fairytale world for a few days and had come out richer for it.

Paige reappeared a few minutes later with the silver coffee set so reminiscent of Carson's that Evan blinked. Rather than pointing it out, he graciously served coffee while his mother brought in a tray of Christmas cookies. His nephews were still young enough to believe in Santa, and they had already told him what they hoped Santa would bring. Evan knew that he and Brian would likely be stuck eating all the cookies and putting the last few gifts under the tree.

Evan and his mother spent several hours talking quietly, eventually joined by Angela and Brian. The adults laughed about Christmases past, Brian shared stories of growing up in the mountains of New Mexico, and Evan told the group about Gavriel and Deborah. He left off the classified parts, of course, but the effect of the story was still the same.

When he finally stretched out on the couch and closed his eyes, it was nearly three in the morning. But the time with his family was worth the tiredness he'd feel tomorrow. He left the Christmas tree on to remind him of why he'd come home. It wasn't about the missions or the work or the activities. It was about the family, and he had a Victorian Christmas village, as well as her delightful residents, to thank for that. He would always be grateful for Gavriel's brief presence in his life, as well as Jude's invitation and Deborah's gentle smile. Those three, in particular, had somehow impacted him in such a powerful way, and he looked forward to seeing them become a family.

A few minutes later, he closed his eyes and slept while the Christmas tree sparkled into the night. And, back in the Pegasus galaxy, a boy named Gavriel lit a Christmas candle and prayed to the Ancestors that they would watch over his friend named Master Lorne and give him a Merry Christmas no matter where he was in the universe.

~The End~


End file.
